


Third Eye Blind

by gabrielle015



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drinking, Friends With Benefits, Frottage, Lance is blind, M/M, Parties, Pining, Romance, Sex, The Babadook - Freeform, but keith and lance have to finish being idiots first, but they are both so bad at it, eventually the truth will come to light, everyone is so thirsty, it gets more detailed later, keith is blind, klance, pidge and hunk are tired of this, please help them, shiro is definitely blind, video games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2018-10-24 08:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10737912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabrielle015/pseuds/gabrielle015
Summary: It goes like this: Lance is in love with Keith who is in love with Shiro who is probably in love with Matt.The issue: No one knows anything.Lance and Keith figured a friends with benefits relationship would both help them get over boredom, sexual frustration, using shitty dating apps, and pining after a person who does not return the feelings.And of course it ends up going horribly, horribly wrong.However, whoever's going to break the truth first: that's the mystery.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm excited to get out of my writing slump and bring back a story with a plot I've thought long and hard (ha) about. The challenge of writing a Voltron fic is that every possible AU known to man has already been explored, and quite well, at that. My idea was to write a short fic about Lance and Keith realizing a lot of things about their friendship and relationship in general. But of course, they will be blind, secretive, and idiots, so much to the point that their foundation will be tested. 
> 
> P.S. Nouns used to refer to Pidge are due to making the writing process easier for me, only referring to Pidge as a 'she' in a non-dialogue manner. I am well aware of the non-binary status of our beloved character. No one calls her Katie here.
> 
> P.S.S. Lotor's skin color has absolutely nothing to do with my preferences (if that's even a fucking thing to say in reference to skin color- what the fuck?) of characters. If I were to ever think of Lotor in a non-Galra fashion, the way I imagine him is what I write; plain and simple.
> 
> Now that I've cleared possible discrepancies, let's begin.

“You ever thought you should just tell him?”

Lance didn’t answer right away. For starters, he was bone deep tired, which he usually was after a romp with Keith. Also, he was debating if he wanted to respond with something witty or if he really wanted to answer that question.

“I mean, he seems cool enough,” Keith continued, “Although, you did say he was a bit hot headed.”

Lance was staring at the wall, barely making out shapes of furniture from the darkness of the room, suddenly trying to find interest in his desk with the half eaten burrito sitting on a towel on top of his closed laptop. He had homework to do, and he’d get to it, just after Keith left so he could shower and nap.

Lance finally answered. “Come on, I’m playing hard to get.”

He decided on witty.

Keith looked over at him, messy locks strewn over his eyes and lips still swollen and red from recent overuse.

“Sounds like _he’s_ playing hard to get. I mean, he’s gotta be blind.”

Lance physically bit his tongue. _Oh, he fucking is_.

They were quiet for a little longer, before they both heard a phone chime, and based on how bland the tone was, they knew it was Keith’s.

Said student sat up on the edge of the bed and leaned down to find his pants, wherever he tossed them. Lance watched his bare back, red and irritated at the shoulders from where he’d dug into them earlier, and watched him squint as the glow from his phone hit his face.

“How do you decline an invitation without saying ‘hell no’?” Keith asked.

Lance smirked. “Say ‘fuck no’.”

“Funny. It’s Shiro. He invited me out this Saturday for dinner at this new Indian restaurant with Matt.”

Lance was sure if he kept actually biting his tongue, he’d make it bleed. “Why not just go?”

Keith looked over his shoulder. “Please.”

Lance faked a laugh. “They are your friends, you know.”

“Correction,” Keith said, placing his phone back in his pocket and lying back down on Lance’s bed. “Shiro is my friend. I don’t know about Matt.”

“ _Wow_ ,” Lance drawled. “Like we haven’t known Matt for like seven years and aren’t best friends with his younger sibling, who’s room is adjacent to mine.”

Keith huffed. “I was never close with Matt.”

“None of us are, but he’s a mutual friend.”

“I’ll just reply later,” Keith countered. “Good thing I don’t use read receipts.”

“Asshole.”

“So I've been told.”

They went back and forth for the next few minutes or so, friendly banter that turned into light kisses, then tongue kisses, and Lance internally winced at how raw his tongue felt since he’d been biting it.

“I have homework,” Lance whispered into Keith’s mouth. That was not incentive for them to stop, rather it was _‘whatever the fuck you wanna do, make it quick.’_

So, Keith took it upon himself to answer by grabbing both of their hardening lengths in his hand and stroke.

Keith came first, which he, for some reason, typically tended to do when they were just _touching_ like that. It ended with Lance on his back, one arm thrown over his face to bite into while Keith was fingering his loosened hole and stroking him.

After that, Lance signaled that Keith could use the bathroom first, and watched as his friend cracked open the door and looked down the hall before tip toeing with balled up clothes in his hand.

Lance was still coming down. Three orgasms in an hour and a half time span made him even more bone tired. Sated. Deeply relaxed. He wanted to fall asleep like this, bask in the fact that he could still taste Keith in his mouth and almost feel his fingers ghosting his flesh. He always made him feel like that.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been reveling in the quietude of one sided feelings, but Keith poked his head back in the door, fully dressed, and hair as decent as it could get, glow from the hallway light framing his face.

“I’m heading out. I’ve got homework too.”

“Mkay,” Lance slurred. “See ya.”

“Bye.”

Lance counted thirty seconds before sitting up and exhaling deeply. His backside ached and his mouth hurt and he hadn’t seen it but he just _knew_ there was a hickie somewhere on his neck where Keith decided to plant his mouth when he was fucking him.

When Lance finally made it to the opposite wall to turn on the light, he saw his clothes thrown on the floor, his bed a mess (the sheets needed to be washed again), and his cell phone peaking from underneath his tshirt.

In all his naked glory, he stood in the middle of his room, thumbing through notifications and making sure he didn’t miss anything important. There was a brief text from Allura reminding him that Friday, tomorrow, was casual day, and _please_ to not forget this time and wear slacks and complain the whole day.

Lance smiled and sent back a thank you, with a meme that said ‘I love suffering.’ And that was true in more ways than one.

The scalding water of the shower did nothing to wake him up, only solidify that he was about to procrastinate on that homework of his and climb back in bed. It was only a little after nine, but he’d been up late the past three nights between a new video game that he and Pidge had been exploring together, Keith, and homework.

It’s not like he was behind on anything, but Lance had tried to reform that _‘if tomorrow’s not the_ _ **due**_ _date, then today’s not the_ _ **do**_ _date’_ mentality since entering college, and he’d done a pretty good job so far. Choosing a public health major that was an entirely online program was working out quite well for him. It offered him more time to work, which he needed to do to help split bills, and pay for his hand-me-down car from his older sister.

Nevertheless, he could afford _one_ night of not working until his eyes bled from staring at the computer screen for too long.

When he got out of the shower, he grabbed his royal blue robe he kept hung on the back of the bathroom door. It was a going away gift from his younger brother, and while Lance laughed at it, it’d proven to be very comfy on cold nights, or for just getting out of the shower.

The first time he'd worn it, he took a selfie and sent it to his brother and his parents. They were ecstatic that he actually liked the gift.

He tidied up his room a little, stared with a frown on his face at his cum stained sheets, and shrugged. He’d just wash them tomorrow.

He took off his robe and threw it on the back of his desk chair, slipping on something to function as pajamas, and turned the light off before climbing back in bed with his phone.

Allura hadn’t replied to his message, so Lance plugged in his charger, thumbed to find some music to play him to sleep through the night, and double checked to make sure his alarms were set for the morning.

Alarms. Five of them. Because Lance slept like the dead.

And that’s only when he did fall asleep. Lately, it’d been taking him longer and longer to close his eyes and drift. He had too much on his mind and helping focus on the words to music helped keep his mind on one track which eventually lead to exhaustion.

He replayed Keith’s words earlier in his head. Just like he replayed the sex.

From what Keith, his best friend since Junior year of high school, knew, Lance was fawning over a mysterious guy at his job that remained completely obtuse to his advances. He talked and joked with Lance, hung out with him sometimes, and was a generally cool guy that Lance was _really_ into.

He and Keith hadn’t started this friends with benefits relationship until college. It was a topic that was brought up over too many shots of bad Tequila at some homecoming fraternity party. Pidge and Hunk didn’t go; said that wasn’t their scene. But Hunk did offer to drop them off and pick them up from the party if that meant avoiding any irresponsible driving.

They were outside the dorm hall on the curb, waiting for Hunk, when Lance said it.

‘ _You know what, I should have gotten that guys number.’_

‘ _The one you were dancing on? Why didn’t you?’_

_Lance hiccupped. ‘I don’t know. Didn’t think to. Was just dancing.’_

‘ _Missed opportunities.’_

_Lance burped then. ‘Yeah.’_

_It was silent for a while, the base of whatever music was playing could be heard outside in the dead of night, then Keith spoke._

‘ _I tried to invite Shiro, but he said he had plans with Matt.’_

_Lance sighed. ‘Come on, you need to move on. There were so many fine guys and girls in there, and you didn’t dance with a single one.’_

‘ _I don’t dance.’_

‘ _What about prom?’_

‘ _Literally the only time.’_

‘ _Either way, you wanna talk about missed opportunities.’_

_Keith groaned. ‘It’s not that easy, Lance. I mean, come on, I’ve felt this way for years.’_

‘ _Yet you haven’t said a word to him. Nor have you even tried dating.’_

‘ _Not dating has nothing to do with Shiro,’ Keith countered. ‘It has everything to do with the fact that people suck and I’m fucking awkward.’_

_Lance laughed, really laughed. Out loud. Head tossed back, the air carrying the echo of it. 'That’s the fucking truth.’_

Somewhere along the way, Lance suggested finding a fuck buddy, and that oddly enough ended up with them discussing being each other’s fuck buddy, although that happened when they were sober.

It wasn’t a proposal done on anyone’s part, per se, but a topic they agreed on, consented to, and now here they were, in the second semester of their first year of college, and Lance finally realized what a gigantic mistake he was making.

He thought it would be fun, at least until one or the other found someone they really wanted to pursue. He’d always thought Keith was handsome, in his own right, but the issue was that Lance thought Keith was _more_ than handsome.

As he thought about it now, he felt a weight settle back on his chest. He thought Keith was handsome and funny and determined and fiery when he wanted to be and kind when he felt like it, whether he believed it or not, and witty and playful, especially with Lance. Yet he was reserved and more private and quiet and literally any flaw or favor in Keith’s personality, Lance was in love with.

Lance was in love with Keith, and Keith had no idea.

Keith had no idea, because Keith was too busy pining over Shiro, who everyone could agree without argument was handsome and funny and determined and-

What intimidated Lance about that was the fact that Keith and Shiro had been friends the longest, since early childhood. Despite Shiro being a year over them, he was a great friend, and one that Lance hoped he could keep forever, just as much as he hoped he would disappear from the city once he got his bachelor’s in aeronautics so Keith could finally _move the fuck on_.

And that was truly awful. Nothing but ugliness in Lance’s heart over something that wasn’t even Shiro’s fault _to_ _begin with_. Shiro had no knowledge of Keith’s feelings, no matter how obvious Keith could be. And Lance had a bad feeling that wherever Shiro went, Keith would still pine. He would still be in a one sided relationship and hurt himself forever because he couldn’t move on, and sometimes Lance thinks he doesn’t even try to.

Now, he has no place to insult Keith, because he’s doing the _exact_ same thing Keith is doing. Dying over someone who did not return the feelings; burying down so deep that even they forgot sometimes themselves. Lance went so far as to make up a lie about an imaginary work crush, who remained anonymous by name to Keith, to make it look like he genuinely was only in this for the sex.

Keith tried to give him advice. _Don’t be like me_ , he would say, _tell the guy how you feel before it’s too late_.

Lance had a whole argument for that. But that would involve him telling the truth, and he wasn’t done lying. Not yet.

He knew that there would be a day he couldn’t take it anymore. While bending over for Keith and spreading his legs for Keith and moaning and screaming because of Keith and _transcending_ with Keith was wonderful, the longing was becoming too sharp. It was stabbing him in the chest, pain crawling up his throat where he had to bite his tongue to keep the words at bay.

-

“Welcome home.”

Keith grunted in response. That was typically how he said ‘hello’ to his roommate, and he stepped over the pile of laundry that he was supposed to take downstairs to wash, and set his book bag next to his raised bed.

“Heads up, I will not be here tomorrow night.”

Keith smirked. “When are you ever here on a Friday night?”

“Noted,” his roommate answered. He was sitting at his desk on his side of the room by his bed, back turned to Keith, but Keith could hear the humor in his voice. His long, white hair was done up in a messy bun, loose tshirt hanging off one pale shoulder.

Keith set to tidying up his side of the room, stalling himself from that imaginary homework he’d told Lance he had to do. He wasn’t quite ready to shower and call it quits for the night, though.

“Party tomorrow?” He asked.

“Someone’s sorority. I was invited.”

“Of course,” Keith responded, humor in his voice as well. “No one wants to party without the richest boy on campus.”

“Jokes on you, _Kogane_. They don’t _know_ I’m the richest boy on campus.”

“Says the guy that goes everywhere in a pair of _Kiton Napoli_ jeans.”

Lotor swiveled around in his chair. “You’re gayer than I thought. No one knows they’re name brand except for you.”

Keith smiled. “You’re the one that watches those fashion shows on your laptop and points out ‘oh hey, I have those jeans’.”

Lotor rolled his eyes. “Noted.”

“Also, I’m bisexual. Happy to admit it.”

Lotor scoffed. “Bisexual with a tendency to flock to one end of the spectrum. Do you even know what a vagina looks like?”

“I’m pretty sure if I needed to ask anyone for their knowledge of vaginas, I could ask you,” Keith quipped.

“That’s not an insult. Likewise with you, alternative with penises.”

He swiveled back around, and Keith laughed quietly.

One of the horrors of going off to college was dealing with a roommate. Keith didn’t mold well with strangers, and liked his personal space. He dreaded walking in the room to see his mate’s side already occupied with heaps of clothes and fancy gadgets on the desk.

He was convinced that he was going to dislike Lotor solely because his name was _Lotor_. He was also convinced he was going to dislike him because the guy had a _Keurig_ on his desk. And designer clothes. And a lot of expensive shit. And drove a convertible.

However, Lotor told Keith he could just call him Lo, invited him to use the Keurig whenever he wanted, so long as he filled it back up with water, and kept his designer clothes neatly put away on his side and out of sight.

The lavishness of his lifestyle seemed stunted by living in a dorm with the likes of Keith. Finally, one day, when it stormed so hard that classes had been canceled early that morning due to possible flooding, Keith sat criss-cross on his bed, Lotor sat the same on his, and they talked.

It was three weeks into their college journey, and Keith finally learned that Lo had about as many daddy issues as he did.

Whoever Lotor’s father was, he was rich. Some type of corporate big shot with too much money to handle and an overbearing grip on his son’s life. He had some weird ass name that was worse than Lotor, so Keith decided he wasn’t going to like the man because of that.

Lotor calmly expressed how suffocating it was, living a lifestyle with limited freedom. It really changed Keith’s perspective on things. He knew money wasn’t the answer to all problems, although he could not say he would complain if he came into some.

As the thunder clapped loudly for the next hour, Lotor talked about the way his father handled him, and hearing the apprehension in his voice was enough to make Keith confess his issues too.

He knew about fathers; shitty fathers. He knew what it meant to live outside your means or comfort to get away from them. Lotor was conforming from whatever mansion he lived in his entire life to a dorm room with a stranger with too thin walls and sometimes cold water for the shower. And as for Keith, he had to take a loan to be able to afford a meal plan, and tuition, and housing, and his car, and his phone. It was worth it, as long as he didn’t have to be around his own father anymore.

So, from that day forward, he considered Lo a friend, a weird friend, but a friend nonetheless.

He learned that Lotor had many facets; partied with him enough to know that there was a face for charm, for debates, for focus, and for seriousness. There were so many versions of him and Keith preferred the real one he spoke to every day he walked back in the dorm.

He had yet to introduce Lotor to the squad, but one day, he would.

Lotor knew Keith was seeing someone, but Keith opted anonymity and left Lance’s name out of it. Lotor knew the truth; knew Keith was having a FWB relationship with someone unknown, while simultaneously trying to get over another someone also unknown.

Lotor said something along the lines of always hearing the ‘gay scene was dramatic’, to which Keith threw a pen at him and argued that Lotor literally had girls coming by the dorm to ‘see if he was here.’

He seemed to be a Casanova, and Keith didn’t mind, as long as he didn’t have to walk in on something or get kicked out of his own dorm because of that.

“So, you were with your boy toy.”

Keith pulled his chair to his own desk. It wasn’t a swivel. Just a regular wooden chair.

“Not a boy toy.”

“Right, right. A friend. Keith, you know I’m going to find out who it is, right?”

Keith smirked. “Do your worst.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates for this story will be between every Tuesday and Wednesday of the following week.
> 
> The cinnamon whiskey Pidge refers to alludes to Fireball, and Lance's stomach pains are referenced from the time I drank wayyy too much of that shit and it was three in the morning and I thought I was going to die. Good times.

“ _You've got to be fucking kidding me.”_

“Before you just shoot the shit down, may I remind you that everyone who is anyone will be at this party tonight.”

“ _Lance, this isn't fucking high school or Mean Girls.”_

Lance pouted. He only had a few minutes left of his fifteen minute break before he needed to get back to work, and all of his time had been spent on the phone trying to convince Keith to go with him to a sorority party.

“It's Friday, you'll be off work. You don't have shit else to do. Even Pidge is going!”

“ _Pidge is going because Matt asked. Matt's going because Shiro asked.”_

“And I'm going because Pidge asked,” Lance added quickly. “And you're going because I asked. Boom, we finished the chain.”

Keith sounded exasperated. _“I really wasn't even in the mood to get drunk tonight.”_

“As much as I would like to sit here and tell you why I think that's a lie, I need to get back to work. I'm off at five and Pidge and I are going to Sal's to eat and bother Hunk before we go home and change.”

Lance heard a long, dramatic sigh drift over the phone. He waited, and waited, and the longer Keith went without speaking, the more Lance's grin grew. Because he knew he would say-

“ _Fine. Damn. What time are y'all getting to the dorm hall?”_

“Party starts at eight. We'll be there on time, thanks to Pidge.”

“ _Always prompt. I might swing by. Does that satisfy you?”_

“What would really rock my world is if you were to show up and take shots with me,” Lance drawled seductively.

Keith let out a small laugh. _“I'll think about it. See you then.”_

“Thanks. You need to come out of your hole every once in a while. I'm guessing Lotor's gonna be there.”

“ _You guessed right. He already told me he wasn't coming home tonight, so…_

Whatever the end of that sentence could have been, both Keith and Lance let it slide. Lance thanked Keith for deciding to go out tonight, Keith groaned and said he'd been forced, and Lance left the lounge area, phone back in his pocket and smile on his face.

When he rounded the hall from the break area, he smiled at an older coworker that he really didn't like, but only wanted to keep up appearances, and walked down the aisle back to his desk.

He'd pretty much finished his work for the day; the clock was ticking half past three, and he was already feeling antsy from the plans he had tonight.

College parties were almost always open to the public, and that meant literally anyone. Somehow, someone always got arrested, and nine times out of ten, they didn't even go to their school.

_Ha_.

He didn't hear (never heard) Allura walking up behind him to his desk.

“What are you so chipper about?”

Lance turned in his swivel chair to face her. She perched on the edge of his desk on his side, arms crossed and deviant smile on her own face.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said. “Also, screw you for telling me to dress casual and you show up in regular work clothing.”

“If it's all the same to you, I had a meeting this morning with our head supervisor. Jeans were a no-no.”

“Oh god, one of _those_ meetings?”

Allura hummed, smile faltering. “More complaints from higher ups. I use that description very _loosely_.”

Lance threw his hands up. “We all practically have the same job. I don't see why we get grilled so hard.”

Allura clicked her tongue. “The way Coran explained it, and he was very red in the face by the time we left the meeting, we get all the hell because we're a mostly student-run department. Therefore, we _must_ not be able to do our jobs properly.”

“What a load,” Lance asserted. “I've only been here six months and can vouch that we all bust our asses to make sure everything is perfect before it gets sent to the officers.”

“One small mistake, and we have to have a meeting.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Why wasn't I called to the meeting? I was the one that did it.”

Allura laughed; her giggles always sounded like silver bells. “Because you weren't really in the wrong, I'm department manager, Coran is supervisor, therefore we had to vouch for you.”

The thing about working in the city's local court house division is that mostly everyone here made a career out of it. Then there were students, like Allura and Lance, who were hired either part time or full time, to basically be errand runners and lunch-grabbers and copy lackeys while the older coworkers of theirs complained about literally anything.

Allura was a third year at their university that majored in _linguistics_ , was already fluent in Spanish, Portuguese, and currently working on French. That had absolutely nothing to do with the court of law or anything of that sort, but she was hired when she was a fresh, new student, and given a pay raise due to being bilingual.

Lance, however, was a public health major that only spoke bullshit, and he'd been hired all the same, although his pay grade didn't match Allura's. His major had nothing to do with law either, but it was easy enough, paid well, and the court house wasn't open on weekends. Score.

Except Lance was coming up on his seventh month there, and he swore he hated it more day by day.

Sometimes it was the customers, sometimes it was the employees, but everyone was equally insufferable.

The student division, ran by Coran, who Lance was pretty sure smoked pot before work, was always looked down upon because mostly all the employees on this floor were college kids. And that's all the higher ups saw them as: kids.

There was only one person in here that wasn't a student. She was actually in her forties and had somehow landed a job doing slightly different work, but still on the same cubicle floor as the students. She was the one Lance had smiled at, albeit fake, when he was cruising back to his desk.

Lance thought she always smelled like cheese, too.

Either way, because seniority rules, Allura was manager when Coran was away. Coran himself was actually an attorney for like, the crazy people that went to court or something. His office was further down the hall, past all the cubicles, and sometimes he met with his clients in his office.

Which is where the current predicament came into play.

So, Lance slightly fucked up. It wasn't really his fault, like Allura said. But one of the crazy people that Coran works with came up to their floor, got off the elevator, and literally walked up to the front desk (which Lance was working at the time), and demanded he see Coran.

Lance looked the guy up. The meeting wasn't even supposed to be until the next day, and due to his schedule being clear for that current day, Coran wasn't even in the fucking office.

When Lance tried to explain to the guy that he was a day early, the dude started cursing and making quite a few derogatory statements towards Lance.

Lance pushed the small security button underneath the desk, and let the guy get pretty far with his words before snapping.

A small crowd of employees had gathered and _where the fuck_ Allura was, Lance wasn't sure. All he knows is the dude started calling him a word that started with an f, and Lance let out a stream of nicely decorated, colorful words, a few pieces of spit traveling with it, in both English and Spanish.

The security officer had only arrived via stairs to witness Lance doing all the yelling and the crazy guy doing none of it.

Of course, it looked bad to everyone that saw, and Lance was so _done_ after the _gentleman_ was escorted out, that Allura cut him off early for the day.

He'd been so upset, texted Keith a choppy explanation of it all, and felt even worse when he never got a text back from Keith.

He should have known better. Keith was either in class or at work in the library and probably didn't have time to accompany Lance's distress.

Except Keith showed up the apartment that night with a burrito and went back to Lance's room and let Lance rant about all the words the man called him, and what he _almost_ called him.

Lance had only gotten halfway on that burrito before setting it down and collapsing on his bed and cursing to the ceiling.

It ended with Keith gently suggesting that they should work out that frustration together, and for the first time in a few hours, Lance let out a genuine laugh because Keith had such an odd way of asking for sex.

The wildest part about all of that was that it all happened yesterday.

“All the supervisor really said to Coran was that 'perhaps leaving a student in charge of other students in your absence isn't such a grand idea.'”

That made Lance feel even worse. “Are they really questioning your credibility over something I did?”

Allura shrugged. “From what I’ve been told, that guy was way out of line, off his meds, and security took way too long to come when you called.”

She started spouting off about how _wrong_ it was for them to be so high up in the building and far away from any security officers; that the guy could have been worse, like jumping across the desk to grab at Lance.

Lance listened to her talk, letting the lilts of her accent blank his mind and guilt a little bit. Allura had a way of standing up for people, aggressively yet professionally. He'd grown closer to her as a friend since he started working here, walking with her to get coffee from a nearby cafe a few times, and texting each other occasionally.

She was a well rounded, level headed person, and what Lance originally thought was a developing crush, only turned out to be great respect; a good bond with her.

“I apologize for talking your ears off,” she finished with a heavy exhale. “Either way, you're in no trouble, that man shouldn't be coming back here again, so now you're going to tell me what's got you in such a good mood.”

Lance smirked. “You really wanna know?”

Allura cringed as he wiggled his eyebrows. “I'm...not so sure, now. Is this about your guy?”

Also, Lance _may_ have told Allura that he was having awesome sex with a guy but they weren't in a relationship. He also refused to mention it was Keith.

Keith and Allura knew each other only from having shared an elective class last semester. Lance and Keith agreed to keep their _situationship_ as discreet as possible (Pidge and Hunk didn't count), so Lance dared not to mention his name.

“Let's just say he helped me feel a lot better after yesterday's fiasco.”

Allura threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, too much information, Lance McClain. Also, when do I get to meet this young man?”

Lance's smirk faltered a little. “Oh come on, it's just occasional _fun_. Not like I'm taking him home to meet the family.”

Ironically, Keith had already met the McClain clan. Several times, once they became solid friends in high school.

Truthfully, Lance had been the oddball out, going to a different middle school than the rest, only knowing Hunk and becoming friends because they lived in the same neighborhood. Lance would always hang out at Hunk's house. It was quieter there, there was a large fish tank in the living room, and his grandmother always made the most delicious cookies.

They bonded in the way friends in close proximity always did, but their friendship carried, even when Lance transferred to the high school Hunk was attending.

By that time, he'd already met Pidge and Matt. Then, he'd finally met Keith, who was best friends with Shiro, and somehow they all became one big happy-

“Can you at least describe what he looks like?” Allura pleaded.

Lance. “No can do. It's part of our agreement.”

Although something in Lance's head wanted to signal to his mouth to start spouting off about him. His hair, and his oddly colored eyes, and his mouth in its permanent pout, and his chest and his smirk when Lance touched his chest and-

“Any plans tonight?” she questioned.

Lance snapped out of his reverie. “Oh, yeah. That sorority party everyone's been talking about.”

Allura turned up her nose. “Have fun with that.”

“Yeah, I'm just gonna go ahead and apologize in advance for any messages you might get from me tonight.”

Allura laughed. “Oh _gosh_ , please spare me.”

She'd left Lance's desk, already turning and walking back down the aisle. Then Lance called out to her.

“And pictures too!”

“Oh _please_ no!”

-

Keith's mouth was turned downwards at the corners, and he swore he was never going to smile again, as he held Lance by the back of the neck and helped him throw up his entire life into the porcelain god.

“Okay, there's meds and water on his dresser, and a new plastic bag in his trash bin,” Pidge called down the hall, arriving at the threshold of the bathroom to watch Lance retch one more time.

Keith was pretty buzzed, although he'd sobered up quickly enough when Lance puked in the yard outside their apartment complex.

Pidge had to drive Lance's car back to the apartment, while Keith tried to comfort a crying and sick Lance in the backseat; one that was rapidly complaining of stomach pains.

As soon as Pidge pulled into their parking space, Lance launched (as fast as an inebriated person could) himself out of the backseat and threw up in the grass in front of their walkway.

They'd barely hauled him to the bathroom before Lance was at it again, sobbing about something and Keith trying to quickly come down from a comfortable state of drunk.

Hunk came out of his room once to witness and smell Lance on the way to meet his maker, and quickly turned back around to retreat to his room, calling out something about alcohol poisoning and hospitals.

“Are you done?” Keith asked. He was rubbing circles into Lance's sweaty clothed back now, and Lance shook his head.

“Why'd you let me drink so much?” Lance asked, albeit slurred.

Keith shrugged. “You wanted shots. You took shots.”

Pidge chimed in. “May I remind you that I advised against the cinnamon whiskey. Now, you're stomach is going to be burning all night long.”

“Gee, thanks Pidge,” Lance began, burping afterward. “Really 'prreciate the sass.”

“I have to tutor in the math lab tomorrow morning,” Pidge added, looking at Keith now. “So, it'll just be Hunk here.”

Keith contemplated. “I'm off work tomorrow, so I'll stick around until he wakes up.”

“Thanks,” Pidge sighed. “Because asking Hunk to do anything around a sick person is pointless. He gets sight-sick so easily. Anyway, goodnight. Oh, and thanks for coming with me, I guess.”

“Yeah, we saw Matt and Shiro for like point five seconds before they disappeared again,” Keith complained.

Pidge laughed dryly. “Reminds me, I need to make sure they made it back home okay.”

Pidge started back down the hallway, and Keith called out. “Let me know if you find out anything.”

“Will do.”

“Why are you talking so loud?” Lance asked. “Keith, I'm hot.”

The addressed rolled his eyes. “You need to get out of these clothes. Worry about taking a cold shower in the morning.”

Keith stood up to position himself to grab Lance under the armpits. Lance laughed.

“Gosh Keith, if you want me naked all you have to do is-

“Not the time for that, Lance.”

“But why is it not the time?” Lance asked. It was like walking a baby down the hall, all the support resting on the adult while the child just babbled the entire time and kicked their feet.

When they'd made it to the bedroom, Keith somehow managed to get Lance's shirt off, and Lance volunteered to start on his jeans.

“Where's my phone?” He asked, voice an octave higher, pants halfway down around his thighs.

Keith turned back around from where he was already pulling out pills for Lance, exhaling deeply when he saw Lance's comic book boxers.

He took Lance's phone and slipped it into one of his back pockets to avoid Lance drunk texting anyone. The first semester they attended their first college party, Lance drunk texted his mom, and Mrs. McClain was so worried about her eighteen year old son that she blew up Keith's, Hunk's (who was at work and nowhere near the party), and Pidge's phone to make sure her son was alright.

Embarrassingly enough, Keith was pretty gone too, mid-shot when he saw her name pop up on the screen. Pidge, who was always sober and preferred to nurse one drink for the entire party, answered for them, and vouched that everyone was alright.

It ended up with Mr. McClain calling Lance the next day and grilling him about the dangers of underage drinking, and that was probably only because his wife damn near had a heart attack because there had been _several_ occasions where they had family get-togethers at their residence and Lance was knocking back a corona or two.

“Here,” Keith gestured, pulling the phone out and checking the screen to make sure he'd taken the phone just in time. There were no notifications.

Lance reached out to take it, and Keith pulled it back.

“In the morning,” Keith chastised. “We don't want another repeat of that one time.”

“Y'mean that time mom was gonna drive two hours here to see if I was in jail or not,” Lance laughed weakly. “That was a great night.”

And now that Keith thought about it, and smirked, it was. It was a great intro party, and he'd felt good that night without feeling too shitty the next morning. Win-win.

Lance back then was much like Lance was now, struggling to survive and mushing all his words together.

“Can you help me?” Lance asked, gesturing to his awkwardly half dressed state.

Keith stepped in front of Lance, then crouched to help pull the rest of his pants off. Pidge had thankfully rid him of his shoes while he was hunched over the toilet earlier.

“Socks too?” Keith asked, looking up at Lance.

His face was flushed. Had to be all that alcohol.

He nodded silently, and Keith supported one leg at a time while he eased Lance's socks off as well.

He helped move Lance to his bed, pulling the covers only halfway over him so he wouldn't sweat to much, and reminding him to stay on his stomach.

“I'm moving the trash bin over by your bed, okay?” Keith stated. “The water and pills are for the morning only. Try to take them now and you'll only throw up more.”

Lance groaned, eyes already half way closed and mouth slightly open.

Keith studied him a bit longer, willing himself not to laugh, and stood up to leave.

“Stay.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “I am. I'm grabbing the spare blanket out of the hall closet and crashing on the couch.”

“No. Here.”

“Lance, no. Just rest, alright. I'll be right down the hall.”

Lance somehow managed to pick his head up. “Promise?”

Keith regarded him, pursing his lips together before answering. “Yeah, promise.”

-

There was a loud buzzing noise that jarred Keith out of his sleep.

Of the two phones he'd set on the coffee table, he realized it was his phone ringing, and cursed before sitting up to answer.

“Hello?”

“ _Hey, sorry to wake you if you were asleep. Just checking in on all of you.”_

Keith rubbed his still closed eyes, and they burned when he opened them as he pulled back his phone to check the time.

“It's six in the goddamn morning.”

“ _How much did you drink last night?”_

“Probably not as much as you and I still don't want to be up this early. So, why the hell are you?”

Shiro puffed out a laugh. _“I don't know. Just am. Matt's still passed out. And he drank more than me. How's Lance?”_

Keith smirked. “Probably dead, now that you mention it.”

“ _Are you at your dorm, or…?”_

“Nah, at the apartment. Pidge has to tutor and someone's gotta make sure Lance is okay when he wakes up.”

“ _No sense in asking Hunk, right?”_

“I think Hunk would rather throw himself into the void than deal with throw up.”

“ _I agree. Are you busy this afternoon?”_

“Mmm, how afternoon-ish are we talking? I've got homework I wanted to kill before Sunday.”

“ _One or two. I know you have to look after Lance. Either way, I figured you and I could just grab lunch somewhere.”_

“Wait, isn't that dinner at the Indian place supposed to be tonight?”

“ _It was, but Matt forgot he had work on his half of our capstone project tonight. He has to work tomorrow, so he can't do it then, and we have to have more hours logged in by Monday.”_

“So me and you then? I'm cool with that. Not gonna lie, I don't want Indian food.”

“ _I don't have a stomach. I was thinking soup and salad to heal my dying flesh.”_

“Just pick and I'll meet you there. Somehow, _shit_.”

“ _What?”_

“My car's at the dorm hall still.”

“ _You have your keys?”_

“Pidge has my keys.”

“ _Ask Pidge to give you a ride on the old bike.”_

“Ugh, let me text my roommate and see if he can pick me up later so I can go home, shower, change, and get my car, because I feel like stale crackers.”

There was some shifting in the background. _“I'll do you one better. How about I go get soup and salad, and bring it to the apartment so we can all eat together. I don't want to verbally admit that I've probably been a shitty friend lately, but-_

“Stop. You and Matt are busy, we know that. Second, that saves Hunk having to cook Lance anything. I already checked, and there's no canned soup here. Considering as I don't have my car and can't go anywhere and my roommate is god knows where, it'd be easier if you could bring it over here.”

“ _That's settled then. Be there around one or two. Preference?”_

“Nothing too heavy for me or Lance. We're recovering. Hunk likes lobster bisque.”

“ _Oh I know, well I'll see you later then.”_

The statement had more inflection at the end than Keith liked, almost like Shiro was _asking_ instead of telling.

“Yeah, see you then.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a few days late. It's been a really busy week.

“No, no. That was sixth grade for me, and seventh for you.”

Shiro quirked an eyebrow, placing his plastic spoon in his now empty soup cup.

“Are you sure? Because wasn’t that the year you convinced me to sneak into your neighbor’s backyard and climb their tree house?”

Keith laughed. “No, that was _seventh_ grade for me, eighth for you.”

“We got in so much trouble with your neighbor and your dad. My mom couldn’t believe I’d gone with it.”

“I had already done it like, three times. How was I supposed to know that was the day Mr. Rutherford would come home early?”

Shiro laughed, tossing a small bread crumb in Keith’s direction. “Not the first time I let you talk me into bad situations.”

Hunk swallowed another spoonful of lobster bisque. “How come you always let Keith get you in trouble if you knew it was trouble?”

Shiro scratched his dark undercut. “Honestly, I figured if I went along with it, and it all went south, at least he wouldn’t have to get in trouble alone.”

Lance snorted. “Better than me. That time Keith and I skipped P.E. to go get burgers at that joint right around the corner, I told my parents it was all his idea when the principal called home.”

The same bread crumb Shiro tossed earlier was now being thrown in Lance’s direction by Keith.

“Thankfully, Mrs. McClain knows not to take her son’s word,” Keith quipped.

“Harsh,” Hunk added.

“Moral of the story,” Shiro interjected, “don’t let Keith talk you into anything.”

Keith smirked. “I’m not like that anymore. The menace days are over. Have to do real shit now, like work, and exist.”

Shiro leaned forward on the square kitchen table, which was small enough that all four of them got to play footsy underneath.

“How are classes going? Regret being a biology major yet?”

“Almost.” Keith sighed. “It’s fun when it’s not hell.”

“I feel like that should be a universal mission statement for universities everywhere,” Hunk said.

“We could patent it,” Lance added. “I want ten percent of profits.”

Keith squinted. “You didn’t even _do_ anything. You were just present for the conversation.”

“Okay, _five_.”

“How about _none_?”

“Eh, then I wouldn’t be getting the financial compensation I deserve for suggesting that we patent it in the first place.”

“Discussion of monopolizing university catalogs aside,” Shiro continued, “how’s public health?”

Being the only student of said major, Lance shrugged. “It’s alright. Manageable.”

“I bet aeronautics is a blast though,” Hunk gestured towards Shiro.

“If by blast you mean proverbial death, then yes.”

“And with Matt in engineering, are the two of you ever even home anymore? Especially with this project you’re collaborating on.” Keith asked.

“I live at work and school and visit the apartment sometimes,” Shiro said, shrugging. “Just what you gotta do when your close to the end.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Hunk asked, waving his hands. “Are you still trying to get into that one private university? The one with the fancy name for like super smart students?”

“Altea,” he clarified. “Yes. Matt too.”

“So, what exactly are you trying to do in graduate school?”

And as Shiro began his verbal dissertation on his goals and aspirations, including Matt’s, Lance watched Keith. He watched Keith watch Shiro steadily, not even really blinking, and the longer Shiro talked, the harder Keith frowned.

“Where Matt is more of an expert at propulsion systems and equations for flight, I like the body of the aircraft.”

As Shiro finished, Hunk nodded his head.

“Yeah, I’m sure I only understood half of what you said, but you two have always been passionate about it, so I hope you get accepted. Meanwhile, I’m still in general studies.”

Shiro shook his head. “General studies lets you finish state course requirements, so by the time you do decide, you’ll already be halfway there.”

The four of them continued to talk about school for a while longer before Shiro volunteered to drop Keith off at the dorm the party was the night before so he could pick up his car.

Hunk and Lance hugged him and thanked him for lunch again. By that point, Lance felt like an actual person again, and sounded like one too.

His morning hangover was a bitch, but with Keith's help, and Hunk's moral support from a distance, Lance was functioning properly.

He thanked Keith for babysitting, which was nothing more than a hard smack to his back and a ‘thanks loser.’

Keith smiled at him, tapping one of his pants pockets to make sure he had his wallet and phone, and jingled his keys as he followed Shiro out the door.

-

Come Monday, everyone was back on their regular schedules of school, work, and home. With it nearing towards midterms, the campus was busier all around with advertisements for the tutoring lab, the library was starting to get packed, and the food hall was slammed during lunch time.

Keith made a face when he walked in to see the hall just about full. Everyone seemed to be eating in big groups today, so most of the larger tables were already taken.

Good thing he was only meeting Lotor here.

He didn't spot his roommate yet, so he pulled out his student ID, and made his way to the first register to be verified as a student so he could actually eat.

One time, he'd forgotten his student ID, and the lady at the register, despite actually knowing his name and seeing him almost every day, refused to let him in the hall without his ID.

Needless to say, he was so frustrated that he'd went to Lance's apartment and just ate his left over pizza.

Lance was not pleased.

From that point on, he always made sure he had his identification on standby, and once the lady waved him in, he slipped the card in one of his back jean pockets and made his way to the lunch line for food.

-

“Are you ready for midterms?”

Keith shrugged. “If that's the same as suffering, then yes. I'm fully equipped.”

“Same here,” Lotor added. “I can feel the stress coming on.”

“What makes it so bad for me is that I have to take, like fifteen credit hours a semester, so that's a hell of a lot of exams for me to take within one week.”

“Accounting is the same. It's all math and economics and it makes me sick.”

“Why'd you choose it then?”

Lotor looked at him. “Same reason you chose biology, I'm sure. You thought it was a good idea at the time.”

Keith laughed, looking around the hall. It had somewhat cleared out since he and Lotor started eating, but there were still a few loud groups left.

“Time will tell,” he responded absentmindedly.

When he looked out the massive glass windows that framed the hall, he saw that it was starting to look overcast, yet he knew the air was still warm outside.

“Have you already got plans for spring break figured out?” Lotor asked.

“Sleep.”

“Obviously. I meant anything fun.”

“That is fun.”

“You're hopeless. Okay, so what about your guy?”

Keith's gaze could have cut steel.

“What about him?”

Lotor saw his expression and smirked. “Calm down there. I was just asking if you knew his plans for spring break. Is he staying on campus, or out on the beach like everyone else? Going home?”

Keith looked down. He didn't know what Lance had planned. Spring break in high school was spent wasting the days away with video games, snacks, and long naps at someone's house. College made it seem like spring break was supposed to be this huge fiasco, and while Keith enjoyed the occasional drunken night, he'd opt to do it in the privacy of his dorm or his friend's company if possible.

Maybe Lance was going out to the beach. Maybe he was going home to visit; bring back some goodies from Mama McClain.

Maybe he was going to hang out with that guy from work he was fawning over.

“I don't know. Why?”

Lotor shrugged, licking his lips. “Just figured it'd be good bonding time.”

Keith shook his head. “I feel like that statement was purely sexual, but considering you're obsessed with finding out who he is, I feel like that could just genuinely mean spending time together.”

Lotor laughed loudly. He always did. “Either or. I've renting a condo on the beach for spring break, Monday through Saturday. Would you be interested?”

Keith raised an eyebrow. “In partying with you all week? I don't know if I have what it takes.”

“You could bring the guy, you know. I'd let you two have all the privacy you want. Honestly, I'll just be on the beach all day. I haven't driven out there since right before I started college and I’m ready to go back.”

“I wouldn't feel right,” Keith admitted. “You already paid for the whole thing, I'm on a budget. I couldn't equally half the responsibilities.”

Lotor stared. “Be a little more humble, could you.”

Keith checked the time on his phone. “And even if I say yes, I'm not bringing the guy.”

“Such a waste,” Lotor sighed. “Well, think about it. You wouldn’t even have to stay the whole week. It's a two hour drive out there. You could leave _any_ time you wanted.”

-

“ _I was actually planning on staying here for spring break.”_

Keith sighed. “Good. Because I don't think I'm going to accept Lo's offer.”

“ _Why you'd say no to a free week of relaxation and partying with him and a whole bunch of hot girls in a condo on the beach with alcohol is beyond my level of understanding apparently, but whatever floats your lame ass boat, Keith.”_

Keith raised his voice only a little. He was still in the break lounge on the second floor of the library, patiently waiting for six o’clock to show up.

“I feel like you all have had a meeting behind my back and collectively decided to tease me about women for the rest of my life.”

“ _Wait? Who else does that? Does Lotor do it too? Oh man, that is fucking hilarious.”_

“This is why I won't introduce you two. You'd get along too well.”

“ _I've liked the sound of this guy ever since you texted me about his Keurig.”_

“Yeah you would,” Keith quickly added. “Anyway, I say we do like the old days. Video games and food. Plus alcohol this time.”

“ _I'm with it. You could stay over at the apartment more and use Hunk's room. He's going home to visit his grandma.”_

“That would be cool.” Keith said. “What about Pidge?”

“ _Might be doing the same with the rest of the Holt clan. Has Shiro said anything to you about what he's doing?”_

“No, why?”

There was a pregnant pause. _“I just assumed he'd tell you.”_

“Well, I haven't asked.”

“ _Yeah, but, you know. You two talk so much I thought you would have already found out. Whatever.”_

Keith frowned. “Okay, I'll ask though. Maybe he'll be down to hang out at the apartment for a couple days.”

Everyone knew that for someone who could read numbers like the back of his hand and calculate quicker than the rest of them (not Pidge), Shiro was _shit_ when it came to gaming consoles. He could play a mean ass _Uno_ , however.

Lance sighed quickly. _“That would be cool. Although I don't know if he'd want to spend all his time doing that. I'm sure he'll still be working.”_

“Of course,” Keith rolled his eyes. “If not, then it's just me and you. And maybe Pidge.”

_“If Pidge leaves, then it'll just be me and you.”_

Keith wasn't going to pretend like he didn't know what that particular statement meant, but he wasn't going to go into details of logistics such as _how many condoms do I need to buy and will I be sleeping in your room sometimes and is this just about sex and-_

“We need to cook. We can't eat pizza everyday.”

_“Matter of fact, never mind. Just stay in your dorm; you're a buzz kill."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: nocanonhere


	4. Chapter 4

By the time mid term week was done, everyone's ass had been handed to them.

Keith let the bags under his eyes be badges of honor, representing all the hours of sleep he didn't get, yet he was doing flips internally at the thought of catching up on all that sleep for spring break.

Hunk was going home to stay with his grandmother. Keith told him to say hello for him.

Pidge and Matt were going home as well, but only to meet their parents and hit the road for some camping trip.

Lance told Pidge to beware of the Babadook at night, and Pidge yelled and told him that _for the last time, the Babadook is a fictional character that comes out of the pages of children's books_ and none of them are goddamn children.

Lance said his warning still stood.

Turns out, Shiro was spending half the week on the beach, and the other half back home with his mom.

Keith wouldn't lie, he was a little disappointed that he wouldn't get to spend time with Shiro this spring break, but he took it with a grain of salt. Such was their friendship these days; Shiro popping in when he had the time, and Keith waiting for that time.

He agreed to stay with Lance for the week, despite his original plans of wasting away in his dorm. But he figured not locking himself away _alone_ for seven days was good.

Both of them still had work, too. Keith had never bothered putting in leave for this week, even though the library would be vacant, and Lance just saw it as an opportunity to make more money.

So, Keith found himself pulling out of his dorm hall's parking lot, which was pretty much already empty. Everyone dipped after their last class, and every student and faculty member got a courtesy email from the college president about being _safe_ and making _smart choices_ over the break.

Hunk was saying something in the group chat about how, three years ago, there was a SGA president that died of alcohol poisoning over the spring break, and ever since, campus officials have been making sure to encourage safe behavior.

As for Keith, he planned on no blackout nights and a lot of sleep. It couldn't get any safer than that.

He packed his duffel full of essentials, and made a trip to the closest store to buy certain _provisions_ he felt might be necessary.

He deduced that if he was overshooting his shot, at least he would have and not need, than need and not have.

He and Lance hadn't touched each other in weeks. The last time they'd had sex, Lance was so upset about a crazy customer at work, and Keith just so happened to have the time to ease that stress.

When he came over with that burrito, Keith wasn't planning sex, but he thought it was a good idea, and wasn't sure what Lance would think, until he saw that mischievous smile grace his friend's face, signaling that he was _down to fuck_.

And it was great, as always, despite the underlying guilt gnawing in Keith's stomach. But that was the last time anything had happened, and since then, neither of them had even implied doing anything else.

Keith thought that he shouldn't think much of it. They agreed that this arrangement was consensual and casual. One or the other could back out with no explanation if that's what they wanted.

Maybe that's what Lance wanted. Maybe he'd taken Keith's post orgasmic advice and actually told that mysterious guy at work that he liked him.

If that was the case, if that was Keith's luck, he swore he'd throw himself into oncoming traffic.

Because besides the underlying guilt of feeling like he was using his best friend for services that are not _generally_ performed between best friends, the bottom of it all was that Keith rather _liked_ the arrangement they had set up.

Maybe more than liked.

And that made everything ten times worse.

The whole point of this shit is that it was supposed to be casual. As taboo as it was, it didn't have to be treated that way. Lance was neutral about the whole thing, while Keith had started to cling to it more than he planned.

It was supposed to be about sex, but what ended up happening was that Keith would visit the apartment, hang with his friends, and wind up in Lance's bed for a nap, _with_ Lance.

It was going beyond casual for Keith; had already gone beyond casual. Fuck and leave, that was his plan. It turned into hanging out, just the two of them, more. It turned into Netflix and naps. It turned into Keith watching Lance sleep when he _couldn't_.

It turned into Keith questioning the foundation of his entire friendship with Lance.

It turned into Keith not being able to sleep well at night for more reasons that one, and quietly shifting his hand underneath his covers to release that tension, and not wake up Lotor in the process.

It turned into Keith secretly hoping that Lance, in fact, had not pursued anything with that work crush.

And all of that was enough to fuel more guilt, because where he _thought_ he was was displacing his unrequited desires for Shiro, it became a paradox, and turned into unrequited desires for Lance.

Oh, he had the best luck in the _world_.

-

Sunday night was when everyone except Lance had cleared out of the apartment, so Monday afternoon is when Keith finally came over.

Lance was already in his boxers and a tshirt, hair unkempt and cheeto stains on his white tshirt.

“Welcome to casa de Lance,” he greeted, lazy smile on his face.

Keith squinted. “When was the last time you've had sunlight?”

“What is this sunlight you speak of?”

Keith snorted. “I'm going to guess Friday. Also, you gave me the spare key last week. Aren't you supposed to be at work?”

Lance moved to the side so Keith could finally step through the threshold with his bag. “Allura scheduled me for a three day weekend, without my consent. Said that I should have at least one day to enjoy spring break. What about you?”

“Yeah, sounds like her,” Keith mumbled. “And my boss did the same. I'm gonna put my stuff in Hunk's room.”

“He cleaned it just for you,” Lance cooed. “And for your information, we're ordering pizza later. You got a problem, you can just not eat it.”

“As long as it's not pineapple,” Keith called over his shoulder from down the hall.

“Oh, you're a _prude_.”

-

They'd ended up ordering a large pizza; all of it pepperoni, but only half of it with pineapple.

There were a few slices left in the box, and Keith was lounging on the couch, one leg hooked over the back while the other was hanging off the edge.

Lance was down the hall taking a shower, and they were supposed to be having a rematch on Mario Kart later. Since Pidge was gone, all the consoles were available for them to play, and Keith was thankful, because that rematch was like, _months_ overdue. Neither of them had made the time for an intense, battle royal rematch. Now, they had all the time in the world.

Keith yawned, fiddling on his phone, and thankful that he thought to take a shower before he came over to the apartment. He was sure after the next hour of screaming over virtual go-go karts, he'd be ready for bed.

And it was only nine at night.

They'd spent the day doing exactly what they had said they'd do. Naps, netflix, and repeat. Gaming didn't start until the pizza arrived.

Keith wasn't sure how long he had dozed off for before there were heavy footsteps coming down the carpeted hall. Pidge joked one time and said Lance threw all this weight into his footfalls; you could always here him coming.

“Hope you're ready. I feel rejuvenated and ready for some ass kicking.”

Keith smirked. “Let's place a bet on it.”

He sat up, giving Lance the other side of the couch to sit on after he fired up the console.

“Fine,” Lance said, bending over (Keith definitely was not watching those dark blue shorts ride up his thighs) to turn on the console. “I win, you have to eat a slice of pineapple pizza. All of it.”

Keith grimaced. “Okay, but if I win, then…

He broke off, because he actually couldn't think of anything clever to bet over.

Lance turned back around, stepping around the coffee table to pass Keith his controller.

He plopped down, clicked on the game, and skipped the title screen before speaking again.

“How about this. I win, you have to eat a whole slice of pineapple pizza. If you win, I'll surprise you.”

Keith raised an eyebrow. “I dunno. Sounds suspicious.”

Lance shrugged, smirking.

“If you're scared, say you're scared.”

“Please, I am not scared. I just don't think making a bet when I don't know the stakes is smart.”

Lance shrugged again. “Then you better think of something by the time we're done picking characters and karts. I'm putting it on random, 500 cc, mirror verse. Just to make it fair.”

“If by make it fair,” Keith began, leaning forward and placing both elbows on his knees, “you mean make it murderous, then okay.”

-

Keith had not chosen his side of the bet, leaving him to reluctantly let Lance surprise him.

They decided on four rounds of four tracks. In the end, they needed a fifth round to act as a tie breaker, and Keith, by the hair on his chin, just barely made it.

He didn't gloat, but he was wearing a shit eating grin and refusing to skip the credits screen where Toad was being awarded his first place trophy.

“I fucking hate you,”

Keith nudged Lance's shoulder with his own playfully. They had somehow managed to scoot closer together on the couch, so now they were thigh to thigh.

“Don't hate the player. Hate the game.”

Lance mocked him. “Oh, whatever. You got lucky.”

Keith stared at him, exasperated. “Are you serious? Randomized, 500cc, and mirrored? And we had to go a fifth round. That's twenty tracks, four times each. That's eighty laps total. My thumbs are sore right now.”

Lance made a face. “Pish posh. Your math makes no difference to me. But I suppose I should follow through on my end of the deal.”

Keith sat back, dropping the controller on the cushion next to him and crossing his arms.

“Which would be?”

Lance stood up, leaning over to grab Keith's controller as well, and walked around the coffee table again to shut down the console and the television.

Keith sat still, waiting for Lance to make his big reveal, when the screen went black and Lance turned back around, quite a different expression on his face. A mischievous one that he hadn't seen in a _while_.

“Come back to my room and find out.”

Keith eyes widened.

Oh, he had the best luck in the _world_.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *walks around the corner in a floor length, silk gown and dark shades*  
> I'm just trying to stay afloat and maintain the little sanity I have left, okay? Don't yell at me for this horrible hiatus.  
> Which none of you have, actually. You've all been very kind and patient and I've been away from this so long that I didn't even realize that I left you all on edge for the sex chapter. How cruel am I?  
> Anyway, this chapter was actually finished months ago. I'm not going to say how long ago because then you all might actually start yelling at me. It wasn't updated because there was something I most likely hated about it and planned to change, but when I went back to read it, I realized that I really liked it (or liked it enough), and should have just trusted myself in the first place.  
> Anyway, S5 of Voltron has me carrying very mixed emotions and I don't know who the hell I ship anymore because, quite frankly, they all deserve love and rest. Anyway, here's Wonderwall. AKA, here's Keith finally accepting his fate.

Keith was unsure if stopping to rummage his duffle he brought and bring condoms and lube was the right course of action.

But he’d learned to recognize that look in Lance’s eyes enough. It almost always led to some sort of sexual encounter afterwards. It was the look he’d given him right before Lance sauntered back down the hall to his own bedroom without even so much as a glance.

And Keith had remained sitting on the couch for five minutes, trying to decide exactly what was going to transpire, why, and-

He stood up then, too anxious to remain on his ass, yet too weighed down with confusion to take steps.

He could go down that hall right now, walk in Lance’s room, and have a good time, guaranteed.

If only for what? To wake up in the middle of the night and watch him sleep and feel the guilt prickle his spine again?

Sex and guilt were not meant to be synonymous terms, and while Keith’s body was _up_ for the idea, his better judgment was-

 _Also up for the damn thing_.

Which is why he was now walking down the hall, footsteps heavy on the ground, knocking on Lance’s door lightly.

It was only a few seconds before Lance opened the door, looking completely casual despite the gaze he’d given Keith earlier, sans the shirt.

“Hey,” Lance said.

Keith nodded. “Hey,” he breathed out. “Fair is fair. I’ve come to claim my reward.”

That made Lance laugh, and Lance’s laughter eased the tension Keith had knotted in his gut.

“Come on,” Lance gestured with his head, moving out of the way so Keith could step in.

Now, Keith felt a myriad of emotions, because Lance’s room was totally clean, not a stray item of clothing or paper anywhere, his bed was made, the blinds were partially open, letting in the beginning moonlight, and there was one lit candle on his desk.

The room went dark then, and Keith looked to see that Lance had pulled the cord connecting to the ceiling fan, cutting off the light.

Keith closed the bedroom door behind him slowly, as if he would move too fast and this entire scene would disappear.

Lance was standing by the bed, then leaned down to pat the edge of it, and Keith _knew_ what that meant.

He walked, legs feeling heavy just like his feet now, and sat on the edge of the bed, right where Lance told him to.

Lance sat next to him then, and Keith could feel his body heat from his bare skin flowing through his tshirt.

“Probably a mood killer,” Lance began, speaking softly. “But why haven’t we done this in so long?”

Keith swallowed.

_We haven’t because it’s not right because it’s too good because it’s all I think about now because you’re my best friend-_

“I don’t…I don’t know. Um, I figured…when you were ready, we could.”

Keith bowed his head once at the end of that sentence, as if he was satisfied with his own lie. Lance let out a puff of air; probably a laugh.

“Okay.”

Keith raised both eyebrows. “Okay?”

Lance nodded. “Yeah. Okay. I was just asking because I wasn’t sure if…if you were, ya know.”

Keith frowned. “No, I don’t know. What?”

Lance inhaled through his teeth. “If you were done with me.”

And if Keith couldn’t feel anymore out of place in this entire situation, that last bit was a punch in the gut. He physically winced, hoping Lance didn’t catch that response in orange and white light in the room.

“I mean,” Lance continued, leaning back on both hands. “It’s cool if you want to go back to being just friends. We don’t have to-

Keith leaned forward, turning to place his right arm on Lance’s.

“It’s not that. I’m still cool with this. I figured it was because maybe things were starting to get serious with your guy.”

Lance stared back at him. “They are.”

Keith shook his head in misunderstanding. “Then why are we doing this?”

Lance leaned forward then, causing Keith’s hand to leave his arm.

“Because I don’t want to kill our fun on the slim possibility that he actually likes me back.”

Keith closed his eyes and opened them slowly. “How will you know if you never give it a chance?”

Lance kept leaning towards him, and his eyes were on Keith’s lips now. Definitely not where they needed to be.

Just like his lips definitely didn’t need to be on his, but that’s exactly what was happening anyway.

Keith felt his stomach loosen and drop as Lance’s lips traced over his again and again. He figured that opposing the continuation of this would be the best choice, but he couldn’t use better judgment with Lance anymore. He couldn’t stop himself from doing exactly what Lance encouraged him to.

When they finally pulled apart, Lance finally gave an answer.

“You tell me.”

And before Keith could ask for clarification, Lance’s lips were back on his, kissing heavier this time, a few nips here and there.

They hadn’t really kissed like this before. Not this desperate. Not this wet. It was going straight down Keith’s torso into his sweatpants. It was making breathing through his nose more difficult. It was making him grab both of Lance’s arms to _hold on_.

Lance pulled away, but not without one last nip to Keith’s bottom lip.

“I want you in my mouth.”

Keith inhaled, nodding before his body could even register he was, and he scooted away to make himself more comfortable.

Lance didn’t seem to be fond of wasting time tonight, because he stood up, loosening the tie of his own lounge shorts, pulling his boxer briefs down with it, and Keith could see that he was already half hard.

Before lying down, Keith pulled his own shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere on the floor. It was so quiet in the room, he heard the fabric hit the carpet.

This time felt different than any other. It could be the fact that Lance fucking McClain of all people decided to create a somewhat romantic setting for a fuck buddy, and Keith was as confused as he was turned on.

Still, there was tension hanging in the air; an elephant in the room that Keith was sure only he bore the burden of. Unbeknownst to him, there were two elephants in the room.

It wasn’t until Lance was on top of him that he decided he needed to stop thinking and just _do_.

They were back to kissing, lips moving over each other and breaths getting heavier in between.

The soft fabric of the bed bunched up underneath the slide of their bodies. Lance started a rhythm on Keith’s thigh; rubbing himself into the cotton of his sweat pants.

Keith watched Lance control the scene. Most of the time, they fucked in the dark. And while they _could_ stand to face each other during, they never moved this slow to where they could just simply observe each other.

Lance’s eyes were half lidded and then finally closed as he continued to tease himself. Keith’s underwear was constricting him now.

It wasn’t hot in the room, per se. The ceiling fan was still on, but when Lance let out a small sound and then stopped moving his hips, Keith felt beads of sweat form on the back of his neck because there was a particular warmth seeping wetly into his pants, onto his thigh.

“Feel good?” he asked, voice weak.

Lance huffed. “It’s been a while, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Keith breathed. He took a chance and arched his own hips up, rubbing his erection into Lance just a little, making the other man laugh.

“I guess I’ll get to it,” Lance drawled, faking an uninterested tone. But by the pre-come on Keith’s thigh and the silhouetted flag pole of an erection Lance was sporting, Keith knew he was quite interested.

Lance leaned down, scooting back on the bed, causing Keith’s legs to widen to accommodate his body.

There was a warm, damp hand on Keith’s stomach, right above his belly button. Lance dug his nails in a bit there, dragging his hand down and causing the skin underneath his fingertips to whiten before blood rushed through capillaries again.

He did this twice, studying Keith’s stomach, before drawing that hand down and rubbing Keith through his pants.

Keith inhaled through his teeth, exhaling so slowly through his nose that his lungs began to hurt from the strain.

Lance palmed him there for a bit, fingers teasing the tip, palm rubbing until he was satisfied with Keith’s reactions and unsatisfied with the cloth in his way.

Lance looked up at him, signing with his eyes, and Keith lifted his hips up so they could both pull the waistband of his sweats down.

Lance only bothered pulling them mid thigh before he was between Keith’s legs again, bare, damp hand stroking the base of Keith’s cock.

Keith’s head fell back. He figured it wouldn’t be so intense if he didn’t watch Lance go down on him; his mistake. Roller coasters were more exhilarating when you closed your eyes.

While his head nested in the pillows, Lance’s hand that was stroking him was slowly moving up, squeezing the heated flesh and somewhat drawing the foreskin up, before easing back down to the base. He was taking a frustratingly long time reaching the tip, purposely avoiding the bundle of nerves beneath the head, and certainly not the tip itself.

Keith let out a loud groan when something wet and warm hit the tip and dribbled down his cock. He dared to lift his head to see Lance licking his lips as the rest of the spit that didn’t quite make the cut was brought back into his own mouth.

Keith’s neck was starting to hurt from his position, and he was just about to give up again, before he saw Lance spit into his other unoccupied hand and reach underneath himself to stroke himself.

Keith could only tell from the slight muscle flexing in his arm, and from Lance’s lips being parted, but he was certainly touching himself. Pleasuring himself while he pleasured Keith.

There was an ache forming in his groin, and Keith thought that if Lance could get him off with a sultry look, a teasing handjob, and masturbation, then he could make him do anything.

Lance moaned, finally drawing his hand all the way up to grasp at the tip of Keith’s cock, making the other man groan and finally throw his head back.

Lance licked his hand before resuming. He was stroking just the tip now, a slight upturn on the jerks, the foreskin starting to draw up over the head, closing over Keith’s hole.

He wasn’t embarrassed, only further aroused when pre-come started to bead at the tip. Lance moaned then, scooting up and withdrawing his own hand from himself to rest an arm on Keith’s thigh while he quickly darted his tongue out to taste.

“Yeah,” Keith breathed, the ache abating and growing at the same time. The desperation to be touched was quickly being overcome with the desperation to come, as Lance’s slightly rough tongue darted out here and there to lick while he stroked.

There was an involuntary jerk of his hips, and Lance smirked up at him before opening his mouth, showing off his tongue, then taking Keith’s tip into this mouth.

Keith’s neck strained as his back arched. “Fuck.”

It started slow. Lance let Keith’s cock rest in his mouth as he continuously worked his tongue over the tip, being sure to lick up his slit and apply a bit of pressure to it, heightening Keith’s pleasure.

His hand was stroking the rest of him slowly, but he had a tight grip.

Keith groaned again, feeling another warm wave of pre-come leave him. Lance had gone down on him before, but it was only a quick pre-cursor to sex. He never spent too much time on it, and while it still felt good, this attentiveness to his body now was making his nerves jump in his legs and thighs, showing up as muscle bunching underneath his skin.

Lance took more of him then, slowly inching down his cock until Keith groaned again, loudly, unabashedly, from the feeling of himself hitting the back of his throat.

“Hold it there, please,” Keith pleaded, voice barely above a broken whisper.

Lance did. He stilled, his throat trying to situate the intrusion. When he relaxed, Keith released a needy moan, and Lance's eyes watered around the rim.

“Right there,” Keith said again. _“Shit.”_

Lance's own hips undulated slightly, trying to gain some type of friction to combat his own need, but his main focus was Keith. A deal was a deal; a bet was a bet.

If someone would have told him one year ago that he'd be betting blow jobs over games of Mario Kart and sucking his best friend's dick…

Lance probably wouldn’t even have argued them because that's all just _so_ like him.

Granted, he never foresaw him and Keith reaching this point; refused to entertain the thought. Here he was, dying to make this man come and whatever else would take place afterward.

But he needed air, and not the small amount coming through his nostrils. Lance moved up, all the way off Keith so he could inhale.

Keith's cock twitched seeing Lance's swollen lips and glassy eyes.

“Lance,” he said.

Lance smirked. “Can I help you?”

Keith's head was swimming. This flirtatious, confident Lance completely contrasted the solemn one from just a few minutes ago. The whole point of this arrangement was to avoid confusion and those things called _feelings_ and they had just done a _spectacular_ job of that.

“A deal's a deal,” Keith countered, choosing to roll with it yet again instead of actually _thinking_ about it.

Lance rolled his eyes, and sank back down, taking all of Keith's cock with it, choosing to be cruel and do it _over_ and _over_ and _over_ until Keith's hands fisted into the bed cover. He let out the most pitiful sound he'd ever heard himself make and came in Lance's mouth.

When Lance pulled back off, Keith made a wounded sound as he was overstimulated.

Keith's eyes were half closed and he was barely registering anything until he heard a voice next to his ear.

“I won't lose next time,” Lance joked, sneaking a hand over Keith's torso and pinching just a bit.

Keith huffed. “No way. I can't blow half as well as you can. I can't afford to lose.”

Lance laughed louder then, curling up closer to Keith's side.

Keith could feel how hard he was; hot and damp on his thigh, and he turned his head, licking his lips and staring at Lance.

“How can I return the favor?”

“You sure don't know how a bet works, do you?”

“Then what about-

“Don't worry about it,” Lance said, uncurling from Keith and grabbing a throw pillow to cover his crotch with.

Keith furrowed his eyebrows. “Lance, are you sure? You know I can-

“I know,” Lance interrupted. “Maybe later.”

And Keith wasn't really satisfied with that, but there was a _don't argue_ tone of voice in that last statement, and Keith wasn’t trying to force Lance to let him return the favor, so he worked up enough energy to lift his legs and pull the cover out from underneath them and throw it back over them.

-

The rest of their spring break consisted of both of them still going to work, finding something to cook when they got _home_ , Netflix, movies, gaming, and more sex.

The library was horribly slow considering the campus was practically closed, but there were still small things that could be done, like making sure all texts were labeled and filed in the right order. It was busy work, but it helped the hours run by until it was time to go back to the apartment.

And he wasn't sleeping in Lance's room _every_ single night. He felt obligated to sleep in Hunk's room even just a little, considering his friend cleaned it up for him.

It was horribly domestic, he realized. After cooking one night, they both sat on the couch and watched some awful horror movie that had like one out of five stars, and both grew weary as thunder started outside and rain came later.

Lance knocked out first, falling over onto Keith's shoulder and drooling grossly because he was Lance McClain and he was gross. And Keith had never felt so satisfied and right in his life.

Which was odd, considering that the guilt of possibly using his best friend had been gnawing at his gut.

Near the end of break, Keith and Lance's phones both buzzed with pictures in the group chat from everyone else telling stories of how their break went.

That was when Keith realized that he had not spoken to another soul all week. Hadn't even text Lotor asking how his mass orgy was going. He had been completely _alright_ with the day to day with Lance, and while that thought made him nervous, boy was it fucking refreshing.

They hadn't gone out. Not to the mall, not to the movies. Just stayed in like there wasn't a whole world to conquer.

Keith had even asked if Lance wanted to go anywhere after a particularly stressful day at his job. Lance shook his head and mumbled, then insisted he and Keith play games until he forgot about the day.

Keith had sucked him afterward, right on the couch. He didn't feel as confident doing it, but Lance encouraged him to take his time since he wanted to _take his time_ , and it ended with Lance cursing and releasing onto Keith's tongue.

They had sex in the kitchen and in the shower and on the couch. Hand jobs while Lance searched for another shitty movie on Netflix. Exploring each other and taking each other apart on Lance's bed.

The last day they had alone before Pidge and Hunk would return to the apartment, Keith and Lance stayed in between the sheets and moved quietly over each other; slowly and lazily.

And Keith felt a swelling in his chest looking down at Lance. Not out of nerves or guilt, but something else that he refused to identify until he figured the rest of this fucked up shit out. He just knew he felt _right_ , and he was right where he needed to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: nocanonhere


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